#mcnsieur

[bonezone]

two bros sitting on a sofa drinkin' alcohol cuz they have issues 🎵

( doodle of my thread w/ @mcnsieur )

[sangcreole]

@mcnsieur ♡’d

     “It just seems so...trivial.” Deep set frown lines stare back at him from the mirror as pensive emerald eyes rake over his reflection in the polished looking glass. For a moment, he finds himself distracted as he searches his alabaster skin for any spot, any dimple or freckle, some remnant of his humanity. He does not often find himself looking in the mirror for this exact reason; each and every time, he finds himself gripped by that same sense of mourning that has clung to him for centuries, mixed with a distinct terror in his gut at the image of the thing staring back at him from the mirror. Inhuman. Corpse-like. Uncanny.

     But he’s not here to simply admire himself in the mirror, and so he tears his eyes away, turning instead to face the man across the room as he adjusts his newly tailored collar. “Why should my character be reflected in the buttons of my coat or the pattern of my tie? I’ve had this body for two hundred and fifty years, and it is such a bother to dress it up every single day.”

[tabletglows]

@mcnsieur​ liked this!

French. The language around him was, decidedly, hushed French. Ahkmenrah listened closely, recalling the months he’d spent learning that language at Cambridge with visiting Egyptology professors. The dust inside his Sarcophagus was beginning to choke him again, but he tamped down on his panic and waited for the voices to recede. It sounded like they were going to bed, if he’d heard right. Except one of them had joked about possibly doing something else besides sleeping. Fine. Ahkmenrah had always viewed sex in a rather positive light, as all Egyptians typically did. 

Only after things had been quiet for a while did Ahkmenrah try pressing against the lid of his Sarcophagus. Oh, bollucks... Was it locked? Surely the servants who moved him hadn’t actually thought to secure the lid... Nobody ever paid that close attention... 

Ahk swallowed thickly and kept his eyes shut, breathing as evenly as he could to keep the panic down. He wasn’t trapped. He was okay. He could do this... He tried feeling along the edge of his ornate casket, at the little gap which appeared after he’d pushed. All right... So he wasn’t locked in...

[bunny-lou]

Lowkey (highkey) love the Roger and Anita blessing idea for an auto phobia sequel

(In response to this.)

That one I kind of made up on the spot, but I’ve been toying with the idea a lot lately that alpha!Roger and beta!Anita want to be a pack to omega!Carlos.

I like to explore the non-sexual aspect of ABO and I think Carlos dropping and wanting to nest and get physical affection and Anita and Roger being like “yes, we love you, you’re safe with us” is so precious.

[louisleroisoleil]

[ @mcnsieur liked for a Louis Starter ]

Louis was getting dragged out again.  He wasn’t feeling safe. He was worried that this would be the time they would get him and while his Mother was ushering them out, he’d told her to stop. He’d told her that he’d forgotten something important.  Running off before she could stop him, he ran up the stairs and up to his brother’s room, opening the door without being announced.

“Brother wake up. I promised you I’d come for you next time. They’re coming. Come with me now.  I’m not leaving you here alone.” 

[roixiv-blog]

     he'd laid a careful hand upon his brother's shoulder,      silently asking him to rise from the gaming table and motioning for him to follow louis a few steps towards the window.     where normally he would have summoned him,    he'd went for this sort of approach so as to not make too big of a deal of the subject about to be discussed.   and because he knows how much philippe would hate being summoned before the king.    louis waits for the salon's noise level to rise again after the room had fallen silent upon his entrance,    and leans only minimally closer to speak to the other.      ‘  are you sure there's need for a show worth  two hundred thousand  for a 16 year old's birthday ?  ’      it’s not that louis wouldn't give the world to his son,    it’s simply that he doubts that monseigneur has the attention span to properly enjoy the whole ordeal.    his gaze moves from his sibling to survey the room.      ‘  i’ve put you in charge of the preparations to give you something to do.    not for you to lead us into bankruptcy.  ’      @mcnsieur​.

[chvlier-blog1]

it hurts to see one’s love reduced to a mere shadow of their former self.   and every time philippe returns the blond can not help but wonder if there is something about a battlefield that simply makes the other hate him.   he knows,   of course,   that war cripples the soul.   even though they now sit together,   it feels as if they are far away.   he just wants to help so desperately.     “  soo ...  ”     lips are pressed together,   a quick shake of his head as if to indicate that the upcoming suggestion is preposterous !   as it seems to be in philippe’s mind,   judging by the past few days’ behaviour.   he looks up finally,   from the fork wandering aimlessly about a yet untouched dinner to the one sitting opposite him.     “  do we ...   talk about the obvious some time this week ?   this month ?  ”     @mcnsieur​

[siffleur]

starter call   ♡   @mcnsieur.

      While Cecil could hardly say that he was drunk after barely one glass of wine, there was a nice buzz that turned his cheeks pink, and how pleased he was to be in Paris, how pleased to be where his father could not see him.  He wasn’t even too angry his friends had abandoned him to go off somewhere, God knows where   ——   there were many people still around, some of which he had even met before, who paid him no mind  ;  most, however, perfect strangers.  And there was Cecil, stamping about in his stockings, cravat untied and shirt surely too loose to be proper.  He was clutching one shoe in his hand, looking around so attentively that he almost walked right into someone.

    ❝  Oh, f—  ❞   he did not finish, and instead cleared his throat, straightened his back.  It felt like he was told about him before, but with the late hour, the party had been going for long enough that he simply couldn’t recall.   ❝  Forgive me, I don’t mean to be crude.  I should have been paying more attention.  My friends left me behind with all my things scattered, and I can’t seem to find my shoe. ❞